That Day Auntie Conveniently Forgot About
by Anya Somers
Summary: Setting: Lily Dale, NY, The Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival; Year: 2011 (Season 7, episode 7) Soul Sisters Stella & Roxi's Psychic Aunt Jayna remembers exactly how her last run-in with the Winchester boys went. She just doesn't kiss and tell.


Setting: Lily Dale, NY, The Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival

Year: 2011 (Season 7, episode 7)

The Good Graces Café (free affirmation with every order!)

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"I hate this place, Sam." Dean complained. He followed it with a slew of swear words ending with "Fucking Lily Dale." And "God Damn psychic woo-woo crap."

When she heard the voice, she felt an eerie chill straight through her bones. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather, and wasn't soothed by a cup of chai latte. Winchesters. Jayna picked up her small antiqued compact mirror, and in lieu of powdering her nose, she checked the reflection. Tall burly siblings, one over 6 foot, the other even taller. Green eyes. Dressed in hunter best, flannel shirts, t-shirts, boots, lots of denim. The national news had portrayed them as a murderous brother-team, killed in some sort of police action. Being psychic had its perks, and knowing deep in her gut that the hunters were not only alive but innocent was one of them. Jayna put her cup down, and summoned her courage.

"Sam, Dean?" She whispered under her breath as she approached the brothers. She knew she had to keep her voice down, as they probably were undercover working a case, and supposedly dead.

"Jayna!" Sam greeted her, genuinely surprised; he hugged her to him with his outsized arm span, "What are you doing here?" Jayna swallowed quickly, the sudden physical contact with the younger brother sent her spidey-senses reeling. Visions of demons, and Lucifer spun in her head.

She quickly composed herself superficially, and laughed, "It's the Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival. Why wouldn't I be here?" Sam chuckled at himself. Of course. Jayna was one of the best psychics Sam had ever met, right on par with Pamela. Her strongest talents were reading people, truly reading people. When he had first met her, she knew his life story, and kept a suitable distance because of it. He introduced Jayna to Dean, who huffed. He did not however hesitate to take her hand when she offered it in a friendly "nice to meet you" gesture. She grasped his hand with both of hers, her grip warm and relentless, like being swaddled in an electric blanket, or placed in a warm bath. Dean's ferocious life's energy shot through her in an instant. She gasped, despite herself. Dean looked at her as if she were insane.

"Damn Winchesters." She muttered, shaking it off with a laugh, "You will be the death of me."

Sam smirked and tried to explain to Dean how Jayna was one of the 'real' psychics, but Dean dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and walked away muttering, "more woo-woo crap."

Jayna adjusted her misty dark blue wrap around her shoulders, sheltering her from the chill the descended upon her as he walked away, taking the fiery energy spike with him. Her sundress was thigh high, and bosom low, a celestial fabric loose and airy, layered with several blue and purple slips beneath, giving the deception that her legs were longer than her actual 5 foot frame. Her neck was bejeweled with a simple anti-possession sigil necklace. "My Sammy, you haven't changed." She observed, "Your hair is a bit longer. I like the sideburns. Very retro-sexy."

Sam couldn't help but smile again. Even with the anger he felt at Dean and the confusion he had in his brain, an old familiar face was a pleasant sight. The last time he saw Jayna Somers, he was hopped up on demon blood, working with Ruby to conquer the demonic invasion. That was nearly 2 years ago. "You can pull off the whole psychic look." He returned the compliment. He hadn't remembered how cute she was. Or maybe he didn't even notice, considering how wrapped up in Ruby he was at the time. She was a few years older than he was, but giving the aging process a good fight and had big brown doe like eyes that let the world in, "I think you spooked Dean a little." The fact that the older brother took off without even glancing twice towards the fairly liberal amount of cleavage the mystic exhibited was a sure sign.

Jayna sighed, "I don't know what it is about you Winchester boys, it's like my antenna picks up all your channels. Clear as digital cable." Sam winced at the implications of that kind of reception.

"I'm sorry about Ruby, Sam." Jayna said abruptly, smoothing down the front of his blue plaid shirt. She knew only too well the story of the treacherous demon, and her demise. "And Amy... Wow Sammy, you are dealing with some toxic vibes."

Sam looked to his shoes. The psychic knew more about him than he would ever say out loud, in some ways it was comforting, but often it was disconcerting, "well, I should have known better to deal with demons." Deciding only to answer to the Ruby reference.

"It is pretty tricky. But you will never be done with dealing with demons." She said this sweetly, but he heard some regret in her voice, and he knew her words were not in jest but were probably prophetic.

"Not in my line of work." He managed a small smile. "Listen, Jayna, You should really get out of Lily Dale for awhile. There is something killing off psychics. I really wouldn't want you to get mixed up in that."

"Awe Sammy. You care!" Neither of them had minded that her hand still sat on his chest where she had fixed his shirt.

He took this hand in his, caressing the softness between her knuckles. Jayna reached up and laid her other hand upon his cheek. Sam instinctively leaned into it, allowing the touch and her energy to infuse his skin. Her scrutiny centered on the beauty of the amber of his eyes, where it transitioned to true hazel. Her thoughts however took flight to the idea, "I would bed you right now if you would have me Sam Winchester. Without regret." Her thoughts astounded her, and were followed up with a quick p.s. of 'where the hell did that come from?' Although she tried to disguise this inner dialogue, Sam looked at her inquiringly. As if on some plane he had heard her words, but he wasn't sure of the source. He smoothed her palm with his, letting his fingertips slither across the tender inside of her wrist, causing an electric current to permeate her body. His Adam's apple danced as he swallowed hard before he spoke again, "Jayna…." His thumb still caressed her wrist, it was such a subtle gesture, but the affect on her was knee-wobbling. She felt the room spinning slightly around them, but not in an unpleasant way. Her eyes closed for a moment. The image of Sam's body over hers slid into her vision. He was sweaty and bare, and smiling. She felt every inch of his body on her; inside her. She pushed the image from her; forcing it from her mind.

Opening her eyes, she saw Sam's eyes were also closed. "Sam?" She dared to whisper. His eyes fluttered open quickly, a crimson sheen rose into his cheeks. "Sam." She said again with more confidence. She knew that he had seen it too. Was it a vision? Was it a fantasy? Did he see it on his own, or did she push it into his mind, the same way he heard her words. She had never shared a vision before. It was quite bewildering and alarming. When she dropped her hand from his cheek, wondering if she should depart, he looked to her eyes, searchingly, questioning. He pulled her hand back to his chest, holding it to his heart. It thumped heatedly through his t-shirt. Powerful and intense, quickened and fervent. She splayed her fingers as if to hold his entire heart within her palm.

It was then that Sam's hand was at the back of her head, pulling him to her, and his lips upon hers. It was forceful and passionate, and not at all what she would have imagined kissing Sam Winchester would be. He was a nice boy, a sweet boy. But his kisses were fierce and possessing, she felt she would lose herself in his mouth. She gasped his name as he made his way down her neck, devouring her with kisses and his tongue. When he made it to her ear, his breath was hot and weighty; he whispered the words, "No regrets."

As he walked her to her car, he chewed on his finger, trying not to think about the situation at all, just going with the flow. He wondered if this was a mistake. Was it wrong? This was feral. This is what Dean would do, not Sam. She handed him her car keys, wordlessly. He glanced at the key in his hand, her innocent face framed by the moonlight. His hesitation hanging thickly in the air. Jayna smiled, and took her keys back. "Oh Sammy." Her voice was heavy with sympathy and compassion.

Sam grimaced at the tone of her voice.

"You know what's different between you and your brother?"

"Where do I start?" he groaned with the obligatory eye roll.

"You don't have sex with people you don't have a bond with. You need to be emotionally connected to them. Even if you are denying it to yourself, you are connected to them. And then, only then, can you have sex with them."

Sam studied the ground for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets sheepishly, and then dared to meet Jayna's kind benevolent eyes, "you say it like it's a bad thing."

"No, not at all. It's sweet."

Sam scowled, "Sweet."

"Very Sweet." She fingered the buttons of his shirt, not looking into his face. He watched her fingers as they brushed over soft cotton of his t-shirt. He closed his eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers, placing a single wet lingering kiss on her lips. He wanted her then, more than before. Like a sultry thirst. Mostly, he wanted to prove her wrong.

"Goodnight, Sam." She whispered into his mouth, and then, "Go easy on your brother. He's having a hard time with this too. You just can't see it."


End file.
